Hurry up and wait
by Concise
Summary: Restless bodies and minds were not a part of the plan when beginning a new life, so thought Flynn and Rapunzel, but that's exactly what ails them as they try to live day to day in unfamiliar surroundings in an unfamiliar lifestyle with unfamiliar feelings
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Heads up! Based on the direction the roughs I'm currently working on are going in, the inevitable happened and this is now an 'M' rated fic. Originally, I was going to write a one-shot smutty sequel to this, but not only have I combined the two stories, there's a helluva lot more touchy feeliness than originally planned. I know I'll lose some readers over this, but I'd rather piss them off now than !SURPRISE! them later. Frankly, no one whose caught up with the story should be shocked by this. For those sticking around, I hope you enjoy reading!**

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In a dreamy dreariness that woke him in the night, Flynn huffed and threw his head up at the alarming comprehension of foreign surroundings. A lonely, wiry branch gently tapped on his window. He lethargically turned his head and looked out the clear, brittle glass and sighed.

"Right…" he breathed, remembering he was sleeping within the royal walls of a silent, immaculate castle that housed a king, a queen, and a newly found princess.

He was exhausted. The previous day's exertions coiled around his shuddering thought patterns. It was interesting because it wasn't physical pain or unrest that suddenly rattled him awake. Rapunzel's tears did more than just mend his fatal wound; it repaired every serrated fiber of his being. Physically, he was actually feeling quite fantastic.

Unfortunately her healing powers had no ability to cure mental lapses within the abstract thinking brain. Otherwise Mother Gothel would've turned into a patron saint.

No— it was erratic thoughts, reminisces, reservations and uncertainties that seemed to echo through his entire body; and now it was keeping him from a good night's rest.

It wasn't at all miserable, just bothersome. He wanted to be completely fresh and buffered for an undoubtedly eventful and…for the first time in a very long time, unpredictable day.

He sighed again and licked his lips as the chatter in his head continued. They weren't dreadful thoughts, just important ones. And a single important thought had as much weight as a dozen apprehensive ones. In this case, he had many important thoughts on his mind— and they all teasingly danced around the strong, taut, petite figure of a young woman that made him seethe and grin stupidly.

Suddenly he found his remedy. Yes, don't think of the surrounding circumstances; the gaping, red faced guards throwing a fit at his presence, the gentle but cautious king and queen who managed to look at him with both trust and wariness at the same time— don't even think about Rapunzel…think _of_ Rapunzel.

Yes, that did him well. Much better.

He sighed with a mixture of peace and pretentiousness.

Instantly feeling more relaxed, a quick recollection of the afternoon's events roamed his mind. In all his boundless imaginings, it never once occurred to him that he could one day be embraced by the king and queen. However, with his arms around Rapunzel and his head on her shoulder, the invite was warm and welcoming rather than terrifying. When the four stood up again, Rapunzel nervously but excitedly bounded to Flynn's side and entangled both arms around his elbow:

"Oh, um…" she began before her eyes darted around the ground. Her thoughts were firing a million miles a second. She had so much to tell, to explain, to discuss, and it all flooded to the tip of her tongue, wanting to escape all at once. Fortunately her quick, nimble thoughts prioritized accordingly. Even so, her unhindered excitement resulted in a statement more blunt and straightforward than she intended, though entirely genuine.

"This," she eagerly and (to Flynn's amusement) proudly announced, "is Eugene Fitzherbert. He's the reason I'm here and," she wrapped both arms around his broad chest, "I'm keeping him."

He almost laughed outright at such a candid and adorable statement, but he refrained and instead allowed an awkward twitch to flash across his face. He felt warm and fuzzy and frightened inside. Of course he wanted to belong to Rapunzel, but his eyes rigidly met those of the king and queen. Their tearful, cheerful, jubilant faces slowly morphed into calmer, deeper contemplation. Thankfully there seemed to be no loss of serenity. Their faces were soft but searching.

Flynn took a chance. This was the first impression; the initial step in a lasting relationship with these people. He couldn't cower and squirm and be tight lipped before them now. The need to assert himself anew became alarmingly clear. This was the time not necessarily to prove _himself_, but to prove his indisputable intentions and the thoroughness of them. This wasn't just Rapunzel's parents; this was the ruling king and queen, the very initiators of his wanted status.

With his eyes still on the studious parents, he stood straighter, squared his broad shoulders and eased his tense features into a calm, placid expression. Without ever wavering his gaze, he gently wrapped a strong right arm around Rapunzel, who not only had never released him since claiming him, but closed her eyes and nuzzled into him more. Her eyes momentarily opened and drifted downward to the spot that once felt a cold, searing knife plummet below his ribcage. Rapunzel's eyes closed again and she gripped him tighter. Her behavior was almost akin to a silent protest. She was not going to let this man slip away again, and this was becoming very clear to her mother and father. Flynn, while intensifying his stare into the swimming eyes of her parents, took his left hand, and smoothly gripped it over Rapunzel's.

The embrace was complete.

A quiet, confident smile smoothed over his lips, and a strange kind of gleam in his eyes sparked intensely. The king and queen shifted, but the king made a particularly acknowledged gesture. He stood straighter, his eyes widened and his hands clenched. He seemed to realize on a personal level, the wrought, resolute, protective, resonating roar Flynn was exhibiting through complete silence.

The king slightly lowered his head, and gave his future successor a slow, approving nod.

The queen gracefully strode up to the couple and put a hand on Rapunzel's shoulder.

"I know you have so much to tell us…both of you. Of course, if you wish to rest first, that's completely understandable."

Rapunzel slid her hands from Flynn and, still with an air of shyness, reached out to her mother. The queen took her hands wordlessly and patiently waited for a reply.

"Actually, I think the sooner the better as far as explaining things go… we could at least go over things broadly," the ruffle-haired princess suggested.

"As you wish," the queen said kindly.

Flynn chimed in. "We'll get into the nitty-gritty details later. It seems inevitable anyway, " he said, easily resorting back to his relaxed, casual self after his bravado cooled down.

"And tomorrow…" the king's low voice rumbled, "we celebrate! The return of the princess will be known by every citizen of the kingdom!"

The queen felt a fluttering warmth at the sight of her husband so elated. It had been a very long time since he glowed with bliss and trembling happiness.

"Come, let's go inside," he suggested, voice still crackling with joy, "we can talk over everything during lunch."

* * *

As they entered the castle doors, Rapunzel's breathing became intentionally deep and controlled. Flynn watched her carefully. He could see that she was trying to emotionally manage herself on many levels. There was the mental preparation to tell her tragic tale to her parents, the bottled excitement wanting to escape at the site of all the beautiful artistry and grandeur of the halls, the instinctively imposed commitment to be civil and well-mannered in front of her parents…to what degree, she did not know yet, so she tried to imitate their melodious mannerisms as she saw them.

All of this however, was far too taxing on her nerves as far as the observant Flynn was concerned. He brushed his fingers against her palm before his large hand swallowed it up. It quietly thrilled him to see the immediate softening in her eyes, the relaxing of her tight shoulders, and the unwinding of her tense gait. Her eyes drifted to meet his, and she took the first calm breath since she first arrived. She would have liked to have stopped and given him a deep, slow kiss as a way of thanks, but the situation seemed to be demanding their best behavior.

Once they situated at the table, the normal (at least for the king and queen) lunch order began. Rapunzel ordered what was familiar to her, which drew a small, guilty smile on her mother's face. As for Flynn—

"I think I'll continue on my honest streak and confess that I'm starving."

"Order the whole cow as long as you eat it," the king chuckled heartily, watching Flynn with intent. The vitality and strength of this former bandit's honesty only made the king more curious of Rapunzel's story, as his transformation was undoubtedly a large part of it. He knew quite well of 'Flynn Rider', most wanted thief in the kingdom of Corona, and this specimen before him definitely held no resemblance to him. The king gently looked to his daughter and gave her a gentle smile.

Rapunzel happily smiled back and somehow understood his subtle implications. She began to weave her tale, but she started in a rather interesting place—backwards. She wanted to explain just how she managed to arrive, and still had a desire to defend Flynn, just so she made sure that they understood his importance, both to the story as well as to herself. The king and queen gave each other sideways glances and exchanged tweaked smiles. They could discern the poorly concealed desperation in her voice as she fervently spoke on his behalf. Flynn listened in silence, allowing Rapunzel to freely pour her emotions into her explanations as they came sputtering out, with very few intervals of control. He stared and smiled at her, finding the entire scenario both comical and depressing. No matter how blithe and innocent and endearing she was to him, the knowledge of that 18 year separation she tried to relay to her parents still struck him like a hammer.

The entire afternoon consisted of their exchanges. They ate their meals gregariously, shared meaningful silences and finally, when all was told and lifted off her chest, Rapunzel was placid, content, and tired.

"I think a much needed nap is in order for the princess," the king suggested tenderly.

Rapunzel gave a satisfied nod and the king summoned an older female servant.

"This is Ingrid. She will be your private servant and will be a very helpful guide as you learn to adapt to your new home, dear."

Ingrid had been beaming down at Rapunzel and approached her much like an elderly grandmother, placing her hands on the girl's cheeks and fussing over her for a few moments. The woman was amply built but not rotund. She had a kind, shrewd eye and carried herself much stronger and sounder than what her age suggested.

"Would you please take these two to their rooms? They will rest until dinner."

"Yes, sire," she crooned stoutly. "Come children, follow Ingrid."

'Plural…' Flynn thought to himself as he stiffly got up and lowered his eyes tensely. 'Room-ssssss'

He resisted the urge to slap himself on the forehead. Of course they were going to different rooms. He never doubted for a second that they wouldn't be staying in the same room. Was his mind that forgone already? What was he thinking? He shook his head in agitation and ran a hand through his thick hair. It was starting wasn't it? He could hear the thundering echo of conditional pillars falling atop one another like dominoes, each pillar representing an incident that was ultimately leading to something that hampered his breathing; something he had never truly experienced before, not genuinely; something that began with a freakishly large, overly serifed 'L'.

That word…

He knew it all too well now, and it was all thanks to this bouncy princess beside him that still struggled to contain herself, even in obvious fatigue.

This princess…

He saved this princess, he loved this princess, he wanted this princess, and she was going to be _his_ princess soon. They would share more than just chaste kisses and innocent embraces. The looping realization of this was gaining momentum and clouding his vision, nearly causing him to stumble.

Before his mind could become any more depraved, his thoughts were thankfully broken— but they welded themselves back together just as swiftly when he saw the cause for the interruption. Rapunzel was grabbing him and whispering to him frantically, which only sent his blood surging. Now that Rapunzel's parents were out of sight, she felt freer to express her giddiness. Ingrid, being able to walk these halls backwards and blindfolded, turned her head enough to watch them from the corner of her eye as she strode onward, making pivots and turns without flinching her gaze. Rapunzel didn't notice but Flynn certainly took this into terrifying account.

"And here, Princess Rapunzel, is your room," Ingrid graciously proclaimed, touching the handle of a slender, intricate doorknob.

"Where will Eugene be staying?"Rapunzel asked immediately.

"Yeah, where will Eugene be staying?" Flynn asked with a sly, toothy grin.

"Down there," Ingrid pointed with less enthusiasm.

Both Flynn and Rapunzel stared down the dark, uninviting hall.

"That's funny, I don't see a door through that murky abyss," Flynn said, squinting his eyes.

"Your room is on the other side of the castle."

"Uh—Other side?" he asked as innocently as he could. In truth, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and his mouth twitched, knowing full well that her suspicions were prodding a guilty conscience.

"Why so far away?" Rapunzel questioned naively, "I want to visit him as often—"

"It's for your own good," Ingrid said in a matter-of-fact tone and grabbed Flynn's arm, dragging him off. "As for you, come with me."

Flynn was startled that he was being manhandled so heedlessly.

'Hey I _did _bring the lost princess back after all, ye old Heifer!' he thought, but dared not say aloud.

"H-have a good nap Rapunzel, I'll see you at dinner," he waved meekly, wishing he could explain to Ingrid that their relationship status at least merited a temporary goodbye kiss, but the look on her face suggested he be very selective with his words. To combat her heavy-handed protectiveness, he turned around enough to blow an especially loud kiss at Rapunzel. Rapunzel laughed and returned a much more refined version.

"All right, all right," Ingrid groaned, "keep your eyes in front of you and remember your surroundings. I have a feeling you'll be staying here awhile…"

* * *

Flynn smiled as he stared blankly at the dark bluish ceiling. The reminisces were beginning to fade as his tiredness was overcoming him again. Then his smile abandoned him entirely at the last fragment of memory that wrung in his mind. He never did get to see Rapunzel for dinner. Although he was well fed with whatever he wanted, his dinner was alone. Rapunzel's parents made the last minute decision to have a very private conversation with their daughter…no doubt about him.

This didn't bring him fear as much as it did frustration. His broad fingers dug into the mattress. He wanted to see her. He missed her. He just died for her, didn't that earn him the right to hold her and kiss her before she went to bed for the first time in her new home? He had no doubt it would have been something to remember him by till morning. That was only a few hours away by now. Still, he wanted a reason to stay upset at the situation, and so kept internally pouting.

Besides, there was something about kissing her at night…something that wound him like a hot iron coil. There was a tangible, delectable foreshadowing that rippled through his hungering desires and clawed down his entire body.

"Uh…" he sat up, burying his face in his hands. "Dammit…"

Apparently thinking of her was no remedy for sleep at all. Good God, he felt stupid now.

He rubbed his face rapidly and let them fall to his sides. His fingers twitched sharply, as if each digit had a torturous craving for her…

He huffed, tensed and flustered. Who was he kidding, they were _starving_ for her.

Flynn spat out curses sloppily in a testosterone driven stupor. Almost instinctively, he glanced at the empty side of his bed…staring…staring into the nothingness and the absence and the emptiness that was there. He was going to have to do something about that—soon, if he wanted to keep his sanity.

Flynn threw himself down again, taking a deep, groaning breath and trying to settle down. The thought of her scent made him snarl and grunt and roughly shift before placing a second pillow over his head.

"Tomorrow…" he bleated like a dying ram, "I'll see her tomorrow…sure they purposely gave me a room practically a mile away, but that won't stop me…besides, I'm her guide. She never relinquished me from that job…"

With sheer determination, he forced his eyes shut and set his mental alarm clock for morning. Normally that would be a tedious chore for him, but he did so willingly, considering who it was ultimately for. Finally, as the tire began to seep further into his moist eyes, he managed to fall into sleep.

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**A/N:** Oh Flynn, you sex-fiend you. :D If only Rapunzel knew just how much he's wrapped around her finger. Of course, she just might discover this in upcoming chapters? We shall see...


	2. Chapter 2

Rapunzel opted to go to bed early on account of being tired. At least that was her hasty claim as she stood up, leaving her dinner half eaten and looking significantly flushed and tense.

"Of course, dear," the queen smiled with a humorous glint in her eye at her daughter's obvious resistance to talk about Eugene Fitzherbert any further. "You've been through so much these past few days. You need a good night's rest."

Rapunzel nodded quickly. She wasn't use to this particular variety of discomfort— because she wasn't use to this particular variety of parentage. It was strange, inherently rushed due to unfortunate circumstances, and overwhelmingly strenuous.

"No one will disturb you in the morning. You may come out when you're ready," the queen finished.

"Yes, thank you," Rapunzel smiled tentatively while brushing a brown lock aside. She then bowed awkwardly, uncertain of the impulsive action and quickly shuffled out of the room, each echoing step forcing her to conserve a rapid series of feeble breaths.

As she entered the dark hall that finally hid her away from her parents vision, the coolness of the scarcely lit walls quickly made her aware of the heat in her cheeks.

She told her parents much about Eugene Fitzherbert, formally Flynn Rider. It didn't take her long to realize that the reason for his absence at the dinner table was because he was going to be the topic of the evening. This brought a sudden amount of apprehension she had never experienced before, and it boggled her as to why. She was a confident, jovial, energetic girl; surprisingly intuitive, people-oriented and even sarcastic in spite of the confinement of her previous life. What was so different about this scenario that resulted in the unruly thickening in her chest?

For the most part, Rapunzel felt she did well in expressing the finer details that revolved around 'Eugene Fitzherbert'. She was all smiles—authentic smiles— and entirely guiltless about telling them every incident in great detail…

Well …there were definitely certain things she intentionally left out.

No, not important, interrogatory information that every parent must know about their child's love interest, but emotional and…physical things she instinctively felt awkward verbalizing aloud.

She told them she loved Flynn, but didn't tell them that she kissed him...quite a few times now. She told them Flynn loved her, but she avoided any detail of how he would fondle her.

Though she retained her cheerfulness and endearing spunk, an obvious drop in poise, and certain increase in breathlessness, hair touching and eye darting was all too clear to her quietly observing parents. All the while, she unfortunately had no idea how much she gave away in every aspect of her body language and kinesthetic stumblings. After nearly two passing hours, she finally started to become aware of the blatant contrast between her distress and her peaceable, playful mannerisms on any given subject matter that her parents 'seemed' to randomly, albeit, cordially bring up…

Rapunzel threw herself unto her bed and sighed heavily. What a day! And what a way to end it...

She closed her eyes momentarily and tried to use the lack of sight to somehow blanket the constant raucous thoughts thudding in her head through the silence.

It wasn't completely silent she realized, as she opened her eyes to focus on the dancing, glowing orange tendrils across the room. There was a fireplace on the opposite wall, and it was kindled before her arrival.

Rapunzel allowed her eyes to roam around the hypnotizing flames.

With all that raced through her mind, from the death of her faux mother she called her own for 18 years, to leaving the place she had called home for 18 years, to seeing her real parents for the first time in 18 years…she still had a certain _someone_ on her mind that was the ultimate cause of her unrest.

It actually frustrated her immensely as she nearly rolled over unto a concerned looking Pascal. There were so many _serious_ matters that were going to be addressed, and yet all she could think about were the torturous chills that dragged down her body in hopes that they were actually his hands.

Rapunzel shook her head and gasped tiredly. She was by no means upset with Flynn. She was aggravated with herself and her hopeless inability to prioritize. She was a princess now—with an ever growing surplus of noble errands that she was soon to be tightly accountable for, and yet all she could center her attention on were these…desires...

Rapunzel heaved a quick breath and clenched her fists.

She needed to focus. She was going to have to force open her learning capacities exponentially for all she knew; learning official duties, learning to socialize properly,(because apparently there are improper ways of doing it), learning to perfect noble mannerisms, learning to be a _princess_…

Rapunzel knew she couldn't even begin to understand the magnitude of her ignorance for what was going to have to become completely natural; and yet through all this, through all the tasks to suddenly be borne down with, through all the responsibilities she was going to have to consistently maintain—his roguish voice, his scintillating touch, his tall, taut figure conquered all her attempts to study her new prestigious role. It made her feel weak, and utterly selfish.

* * *

"_Rapunzel_…" he seethed, after she finally broke a long, breathless kiss.

With little control of herself, Rapunzel began sliding down his body and leaning against him for support. The light blared in from the small tower window, illuminating the disheveled room in which a miracle had just taken place.

"Eugene…" she whispered, submitting her keen wits to mysterious instincts as she found herself hungrily planting her lips on his own, and then his jaw, before heavily dragging her mouth down to his jugular where she paused, deeply inhaling his amorous, timber scent.

He was alive. He was alive and he was in her arms. His death and revival had devastated her with emotions she had never felt before. His living touch now overwhelmed her with frantic surges of want and desire she didn't know existed; and instantly found herself craving more of.

She lifted her vision to meet his again, taking in the sight of his colored, pliable features, drawing in his soothing, palatable breath, and gazing intensely into the gleam- the _living_ gleam in his eyes.

Her hands trembled against him, her moist lips quivered, and the stinging redness in her eyes were as evident to her as they were to him.

Before Flynn could give her any kind of gentle reassurance, Rapunzel grabbed him fiercely and crushed her lips against his, far more vehemently than the first time. Nothing else mattered now, and nothing else occupied her erratic psyche except his entire being— that eagerly accepted her's. Her mind, thoughts, and soon her actions were flailing in a mix of love and lust that rapidly began flooding her freshly ignited urges. She didn't know what she was doing, and she didn't know why, but right now, she didn't care. She wanted to claw and tear and grope; the feelings connected with these actions were a completely unknown creature to her, but she fed it; and it gave her power.

Flynn not only became increasingly aware that Rapunzel was losing herself, but that he was losing himself right along with her, succumbing to cravings that would take this situation into an entirely different sphere if he didn't think fast.

He knew…he hated it but he knew that the moment she was sinking into this newly discovered sexual stupor, she was going to be a she-beast to try and contain again—and he was the worst person to do the job at the moment. Her hands continued to grate him and her lips continued to torture him as she found herself engrossed in his collar bone.

_Think-dammit- hell-_ his thoughts chugged disjointedly, his broad hands digging around himself.

_What are you going to do, REALLY? Take Rapunzel's innocence away here and now_? His thoughts snarled. Flynn snarled back, annoyed by his own noble nagging. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to pin her down and ravish her swiftly on the knotted floorboards.

"Are you all right, did I hurt you?" she panted, laying her soft hands on his hot face.

"What?" he huffed.

"You growled," she chuckled, seeing that he was in no pain. For a moment she had a sliver of doubt that her tears had healed him completely.

Flynn stared at her for a moment, the clapping storm within his wrought body hushing long enough for him to examine her thoughtfully.

He knew...it would be wrong. He couldn't have her yet. He couldn't explain it, but somehow he felt the gamut of negative consequences that would result in such an action— _especially_ here and now.

Without startling her or creating any unnecessary awkwardness, Flynn firmly stole a kiss, 'continuing' where they left off. Rapunzel quivered and melted into him again, unknowingly allowing him to follow through with his strategy.

Through wave after wave of engulfing pleasure, he managed to have enough rationale to slowly, discreetly, _secretly_ sneak his way into positioning themselves so that they were sitting up and no longer keeled over.

His plan appeared to be working, as Rapunzel thought nothing of this while her mouth clamped down on his bottom lip. Flynn dragged both hands up her arms and rested them on her shoulders, using the sensual touch as somewhat of an excuse to support himself as he now shifted his body so that his knees were comfortably under him.

Next, standing up could be accomplished with relative ease, and would take them entirely out of the danger zone...hopefully.

With his hands still on her shoulders, Flynn skillfully kissed and rubbed and elapsed stifled breathes from her as he slowly began the ascent to his feet, bringing her up with him.

Now came the catalyst that would take them out of this situation entirely…hopefully. Flynn slowly dragged his hands down her arms, but he didn't let go or even hint at loosening his touch. No, Flynn decided to take a different route entirely. Instead of doing what any sensible man would do, which would be to give finality to the situation by stepping away and feigning benevolence to hide any and all ungainliness, he did quite the opposite.

Flynn suddenly brought her closer to himself and captured her mouth with his own, heatedly and vigorously. If he was going to end something before it even began, he was going to enjoy it to the last second, that's for damn sure.

Rapunzel took in his kiss with a low, rumbling moan. Her vision was lost under her tightly closed eyes and her knees buckled into his, rather than her own.

Suddenly... a thought—a desire—a wanting primal and raw within her surfaced that sent a jarring alarm through her body and completely broke her from her trance;—

She wanted to taste him.

Really taste him.

As in—the desire to drive her tongue into his mouth—taste him.

Not only did the idea panic her, but she couldn't understand how she could even _think_ of such a thing! Imagine how Flynn would react if she carried out such a bizarre and depraved deed?

While she remained close and willing in his arms, Rapunzel significantly withdrew emotionally. She almost withdrew physically.

_What's wrong with me...? H-why... I_... her torment rang out like a hollow ghost.

Now it was Flynn's turn to be oblivious. If it wasn't for his unrelenting touch and smoothness of his faint-worthy kisses, the over stimulation from every angle, every emotion and every degree would have sent her diving into a corner to weep.

If only she knew how much Flynn would have gladly received such a delicious contribution to the sensual feast he was already receiving. It was a good thing she didn't, because his entire plan would have gone to ruin otherwise.

Unbeknown to the depth of desire in Flynn's mind, fright still steered chaotically in her own. However, as the seconds passed, it wasn't enough to bring her to stop from kissing him back as the subtle tastes she _did_ manage to harbor without a lashing tongue, eclipsed the rest of her uncertainties.

Finally—finally to a bittersweet combination of relief and disappointment, Flynn felt Rapunzel slipping away from him until she quickly broke the kiss entirely to take in lungfuls of needed oxygen.

Shivering, flushed and winded, Rapunzel quivered and jerked in intervals at the speed of her gasping.

Flynn stared down at her, his own hampered panting deep and full, his chest pressed against her.

"Rapunzel…" he respired, his breath close enough to cause a few unruly strands of hair to dance before her eyes.

Rapunzel looked up at him with a soft smile— that ever so slightly twitched with something fervent and... animalistic.

Flynn's eyes widened and his mouth parted as the realization hit him.

Rapunzel was trying her damndest to hold back urges she didn't know she had. She couldn't reason for their existence, and she couldn't understand their control over her. The woman standing before Flynn was utterly confused and tainted, with flashes of lust still glazing over her eyes and flinches of her hand still wanting his touch. And yet—so readable through the onslaught of awakened, relentless hormones, a radiating, penetrating awareness emitted from her body and overtook his.

It was her love.

It was of the desperate variety right now, but Flynn couldn't blame her, considering how completely dead in her arms he was not a few minutes ago. But the realization of it all at once actually calmed him, and nourished his soul with something meaningful and definite.

He took her up in his arms again, slowly this time, and held her, deeply resting his mouth on the tender, triangular shape of flesh that connected her shoulder and neck. She was alive too, and all too terrifying in his mind was that she didn't have to be. Anything could have happened after he died, even her own death.

And yet here they were, conquerors of death again, embracers of life and new found love. Who could really fault them for their fraught and hasty physical scuffling?

While Rapunzel's body still felt electric surges pulsating, the softness of Flynn's embrace, and the intense tranquility he emanated did enough to bring a lapse of calming judgment to the forefront of her mind again, and slowly mellow her fiery nerves.

Rapunzel leaned into him and closed her tired eyes, taking in his invigorating scent again and letting out a slow, contented sigh.

Flynn hid his sigh from her ears as he relaxed.

_Damn, I'm good_…he thought, exhaling an uneven breath and silently congratulating himself, not for easing Rapunzel's budding sex drive—but for being in control of his own.

"What should we do now?" he asked deeply.

Rapunzel could be heard taking a breath through her nose before she tilted her head to look up at him. For a moment, her expression revealed a mixture of worry and uncertainty. Her eyes then smoothly transitioned into a neutral but deep thinking cadence as she straightened up.

"First…" she said, balancing on her tip toes, "I'm gonna kiss you again."

Flynn's breath faltered for the umpteenth as a sly grin etched across his lips. He wouldn't argue with that, and bent down to accept.

"And then…" Rapunzel smiled before her countenance began falling again. Flynn grazed a finger across her chin.

"I have to tell you something…" she revealed.

"What's that?" he whispered, nuzzling her cheek.

"I…can we leave first?"

Flynn looked over her again.

"What about…" his eyes impulsively scanned the room.

Rapunzel saw this and slid her hands into his.

"Leave it."

"Everything?"

Rapunzel bared her teeth and her eyes clamped shut.

Everything…everything she knew, all 18 years of her heart and soul carefully yet spiritedly splashed on her walls, hanging full and delicate from her bed frame, meticulously and outlandishly written in her many journals. Every aspect of who she was hanged it the air...and it was all a façade that dripped down to hide its manipulative user that was in plain sight nearly every day of her life…her 'mother.'

Rapunzel turned her vision to the window. Whatever was left of Mother Gothel, it was still out there, and the gravity of that knowledge chilled her blood. That strange human desire to see the aftermath of death and destruction rose up in Rapunzel; it was only a few steps away. It would take little effort to lean and look down. She could almost do it…

"Everything…" Rapunzel whispered with finality, turning back to Flynn and lowering her head. Whatever she would see, she would see from ground level, not from the distorted height she had always viewed the world from.

At that moment, Rapunzel wanted the impossible. She wanted to have the entire tower buried below the ground, all the falsehoods, all the lies and deceptions; all the joy and happy times as well, for they came from a sham.

Since she knew there was no way to accomplish this, Rapunzel would leave it as it is. She would leave it a silent monument to be buried by time, never to be revisited, never to torture her or Flynn again. Flynn shuffled, acknowledging her tension. He knew the longer she stayed here, the longer she would battle internally.

"Let's go then," he said.

Rapunzel nodded, and the two made their way across the room, the hollow echo of their steps to be the last living connection to the memory of this place. They stepped over and around every object. All would be untouched; even the twirled, lifeless mass of smooth brown hair that wound haphazardly around the room. Flynn and Rapunzel found themselves stepping over its many tousled loops several times. It proved a mindlessly easy, yet disturbingly constant obstacle on their way to the trap door. It was almost as if the hair were a guilty, dying entity; making one final effort to quash the inevitable fate of its eternal loneliness.

Flynn helped a tense and stiffened Rapunzel down through the door.

"Are you all right?"

Rapunzel answered with silence, turning her head up one last time, her eyes resting on the deep hues of the ceiling she poured her artist's soul into.

When she finally turned away forever more, a cold, stubborn tear fled her left eye and bled down her face. Flynn silently stepped toward her and knelt down, strongly kissing her wet cheek.

Rapunzel grabbed him and buried her face in his neck, her knuckles white and protruding. When she released him, sniffling and trembling with rage and sadness, she wiped her face and nodded to him.

With that, Flynn tightly griped the door, and once it was shut, a silent, mutual decision was made to never open it again.

* * *

-**You guys like how I'm stretching a single night into three freaking chapters? There's really no reason to merit such an atrocity unless Flynn and Rapunzel are breeding like rabbits, but they ain't. So I simply reveal myself to be a bitch of a tease. :DDD**

**Anyway, sorry for the downer of an ending, but I felt it was particularly necessary.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

"They're going to come looking for me…" Flynn said dryly, still twitching and shuddering at the after affects of Rapunzel's sliding, kneading hands and soft, bite-worthy lips.

He led an unusually quiet Maximus across a gently rippled hill. Rapunzel no less felt the lingering pulse beat in certain alarming parts of her body. Her disorientation and fear was enough to keep the newly rustled sensations from overtaking her...for now.

She sighed wearily as she quietly sat atop the slowly paced horse. Maximus's head was low with a tired bob that accompanied each step. Rapunzel ran her fingers though his course mane, pondering over the amount of overexertion caused to raise so many layers of dried foam and caked sweat across his neck and between his ears.

"The guards…" she finally responded absently.

"Yeah…" Flynn breathed, racking his brain of plans and strategies for what was going to have to be done about it.

Rapunzel could practically hear the wheels in his head turning— and the undue stress it was causing. She would end that for him now.

"No they're not," she said firmly, but not without a smile.

Flynn stopped and looked at her.

"What?"

"Let's go in the shade. Remember when I said I had to tell you something? Besides, I think Maximus would appreciate a longer rest."

The white stallion snorted in appreciation and eyed Rapunzel with a sleepy look of gratitude. Even before they left, Flynn and Rapunzel's substantial silence would have been enough to keep Maximus significantly quieter even if he were fresh, but the mixture of their serious contemplations and his exhaustion from barreling through the kingdom at full speed did him in significantly.

Clearly it was worth it. Rapunzel was safe, and her safety earned him appreciative hugs and scratches under his chin.

"So, what is it you have to tell me, and what does it have to do with the guards not coming to throw me back in jail?" Flynn asked, scooting closer to his newly acquired flame.

"Well…"Rapunzel mused, not sure where to start, "I'll tell you straight out and then explain."

Flynn nodded faintly, his eyes and fingers suddenly preoccupied with a small exposure of skin above Rapunzel's ankle.

She took a breath and shifted to sit straighter as she suddenly blurted out, "I'm the lost princess."

Flynn froze. Without a word, his head cranked upward and his mouth tweaked. Rapunzel couldn't help a guilty smile at his expression, and went on to give a thorough explanation as to how she knew, tying it seamlessly with Mother Gothel's atrocious actions that spanned her entire life.

Flynn felt a new surge of rage boiling over, and his hands left Rapunzel's leg to crush the grass beneath him. Before he could grind his teeth into oblivion however, he felt the blood in his veins nearly cease from flowing. His limbs felt like jelly, and his face became cold and pale.

_I almost ravished the princess_…his thoughts crackled in what seemed like very empty space. _THE princess_… the voice in his head emphasized.

"Eugene…?" Rapunzel inquired, noticing his body swaying and eyes twitching. With no response, she grabbed his shoulders and drew her face near his, running a hand down his cheek.

"I know— I know it's a lot to take in," she sympathized eagerly, massaging his cheek before giving him a reaffirming kiss, "you just came back from a place that wanted to hang you and now…"

"I have to take you back…" he breathed.

"I…" she choked for a moment, "they won't come near you. I won't let them."

The combination of her physical touch and strong verbal assertions stirred something in Flynn that sharpened his wits again and drew a slow smile across his face. He placed his hands over hers as his temperature began to escalate again. He was certain that the rapid high and lows of his changing blood flow was no good for him, but he didn't care.

"For the record… can I just say that if I knew this was going to happen to me, I never would have become a thief?" he asked helplessly.

Rapunzel chuckled and did what she quickly discovered to be the most potent remedy for all things that troubled a burdened soul, and pressed her lips against his.

* * *

Rapunzel's eyes fluttered open from the dreamy half sleep. She was still fully dressed and in the same position after rolling around in aggravation. She ran a hand over her face and sighed as full forming thoughts began wearing on her again.

Dear God, why was he _so_ prevalently at the forefront of all of her thoughts in such an inconvenient manner? To the point that he pushed out the importance of other thoughts she had always considered, or needed to consider now?

This was something Pascal was beginning to wonder about, having nearly been crushed by her unannounced flailing twice now. He decided it would be better to sleep atop the night stand where he could ponder just how much space _he_ currently occupied in her mind, without fear of being rolled on top of. And from there, he watched his friend with a growing sense of apprehension, wondering why she looked so distraught and distracted, her eyes distant, and a single hand repeatedly caressing a small portion of the bed.

He didn't know how to respond to this, as he had never seen her in this new and unique state of distress before.

Rapunzel would have been very appreciative of Pascal's concerns had she been aware of them, but her mind was in a hypnotic state. Every breath, twitch, pang, chill and eye roll was a physical response to wanting what she had never experienced in her life until recently; the warmth, caress, and love of a man.

And not just any man; he just so happened to be her one and only, an overwhelming concern that would have plagued any other young woman. Rapunzel had no semblance to any other young woman though. She was an anomaly in every way: strong in character, naïve of the world's functions, resolute in her undertakings, and to an extent, very much ignorant of her own strengths.

And now she was discovering the weaknesses—weaknesses previously unknown to her for the first time in her life.

She didn't know why she was driven to plant her lips on his. The only kissing she had experienced was a light peck on the head or cheek from Mother Gothel. So not only did it terrify her that she found it alluring that her lips gravitated toward Flynn's, but she craved to feel more of him, to press harder.

In hindsight, yes, she found herself quite alarmed and mystified by her actions. She pondered over how and why she felt 'lost' in their embraces, and then seemed to have no ability to control herself while she was actually _in _them. When she kissed Flynn for the first time, she felt empowered yet faint. She could comprehend nothing around her as the taste of him muffled everything else out of focus. And the feelings that flooded her then— flooded her now.

She cringed and dragged a shivering hand to her moist forehead. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Morning came bright and pristine with a sickening kind of fluffy cheeriness that didn't suit Flynn's mood at all. His eyes opened independently; red, sticky and unfocused.

"Hope you had a better night than I did, Blondie…'cause you're the reason I didn't…"

He murmured a few more incoherencies and slid out of bed, flopping to the soft rug on the ground. At this point, he was having a difficult time thinking he would be able to keep up with her today; because he had no doubt that her boundless energy levels could only be suppressed by roving from one end of the castle to the other, including every inch in between.

He forced himself to his feet, shaking and striking the air to rid the tire as his thoughts started to amass clarity:

Rapunzel…that's right—he wanted to see her. He mulled around his room. Where were his clothes? What time was it? Was it too late? Too early? He couldn't wake up every morning with her yet, so the next best thing was to get dressed and steal a few private moments with her while he could. After all, he knew her days of ignorance were numbered, and she would soon be buried in books and scrolls and overbearing tutors and nameless other noble duties that would fill up her daily schedule. The poor girl had no idea just how pointlessly busy a royal person's life was.

Flynn tried to look at the positive side of things, and by positive, he meant things that would equal physical contact that would take place in a private setting; any private setting, he wasn't picky. He had a new definitive role now with a few added benefits he would keep to himself. Of course this came up with extra responsibilities, but as long as they were linked with the bubbly, vivacious princess, it only emboldened him more. He would be her pillar of strength, her guardian angel, her confidant, her emotional stronghold, her shoulder to cry on, her punching bag… which would transform into wresting partner, which would transform into—

Yes, yes, the ideas danced quite merrily in his decadent mind. Despite being an ex-thief, Flynn was as conniving as ever. In fact, he was certain he was even more so. Now at this very moment, unlike any other time before, every feeling and emotion behind a strategy, every tactic, every preparation, was amplified to infinity when …love was involved.

"Damn…" he breathed. He had fallen so deep for her.

Flynn shook his head and cleared his throat, trying to focus. Regardless of the lust-filled distractions that continually plagued him, he still bemoaned the eventuality of her royal obligations. He desperately hoped the king and queen were discerning enough to allow Rapunzel 'time off' to learn and discover certain things on her own, at her own pace, at least for a month...maybe two…with him as a 'study buddy.'

Yeah, that would work.

With his boots on and a few clothing adjustments, he prepped his mind for the hallway marathon he was about to embark. At least this way he'd get decent exercise before the day even began.

It was nearly nine o' clock. Rapunzel's eyes trembled and twitched. She found herself too distraught, too groggy, and somehow, too _tired_ to go back to sleep. She had been awake for hours. Her night had been one of checkered sleep patterns and ceiling staring contests. Nothing however, could completely rip her from her nature. She flung herself out of bed and got herself ready. To occupy her time she scanned every section of the room, picked up and studied every foreign object she could lift and ran her hands along every ornamental article she could reach. She thought multiple times about visiting the cause of all her pleasurable turmoil, but not knowing where Flynn's room was, and then not wanting to wake him if she found it, kept her from exploring the halls.

At the moment though, she was sitting very still on a sofa, gazing out the balcony and letting the sun bask over her. She then heard a small shift in movement beside her. She looked down to see Pascal crawling into her lap and looking up at her.

"Finally up, huh sleepy head?" she murmured.

A gentle, throaty purr came from him as he nuzzled her.

"Mother and Father sure liked you didn't they?"

Pascal gave a pretentious look, as she never mentioned this the night before even though he was with her, being completely ignored due to her mindful distractions. At least she was acknowledging him now. He gave her a playful but haughty, 'of course' sort of expression before the creases in his eyes softened as he tilted his head at her curiously. He climbed to her knee and watched her expression drift into something dark and distressing.

There was a storm of thoughts pelting down on her that sent chills through her body, despite the bright sun enveloping her. She thought of the loving warmth from her parents that she had never experienced before—the layers and layers of depth that she felt for the first time with her true kin. How she managed to be fooled by Mother Gothel's shallow version of such a sentiment left her baffled and ashamed, and yet…it was all she knew.

"And Eugene…" her thoughts came out of her mouth. She then found herself curling up in a ball and her face getting very hot.

Pascal immediately jumped off her knee, off the sofa and made for the adjacent niche room typically reserved for visiting guests. He had only seen it a few times, but by now he realized that when Rapunzel brooded over Flynn and reacted the way she was now, it was easier and much less embarrassing to leave her alone.

Rapunzel appreciated this as she got up, opening the balcony doors for a much needed waft of cool morning air. She gently leaned over the railing, wishing that gravity could somehow pull the tremulous thoughts out of her.

But no such occurrence would ease her mind as she blankly stared, her body swaying from the wonderfully dizzying recollections of his touch. She stumbled back to the room and threw herself on the couch again, laying down and leaving the balcony doors open to continue inviting that much needed breeze.

A knock came at the door, followed by a cautious voice, "Rapunzel?"

Blood rushed to her face as fast as she bounded for the door, swinging it open.

There he was, the roguishly handsome ex bandit, towering over her with that wide touchable chest her hands were so magnetized toward. Flynn stared down at her as his smile faded into perplexity. She was silent, and had been staring at him with a look of startled awe as if she had never seen a man before; but in Flynn's mind, he worried that his fly was undone.

"Hey Blondie…you okay?"

Having hardly heard him, Rapunzel took a slow, calculated breath, eyes fixed up at him. Without a word, she let her hands have their way since they seemed to work better when they were disconnected from her thoughts, and she placed them on his warm chest.

Flynn took a shuddering breath at the touch he longed for and he obediently obliged when she drew him inside— and then pushed him away to use his body to shut the door. In that same swift movement she got to her tip toes and pulled him closer to close in on his mouth.

There it was again, far more amplified than any nourished memory; the pleasurable, painful jolt that gave her might and frailty all at once.

Flynn liked the way she was thinking, and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up to him. She took a quick breath through her nose and gave a lustful, tortured hum that sent the man in a sudden clawing frenzy as he took another hungry mouthful of her intoxicating kiss. Rapunzel dug her nails into his fleshy shoulder like she was hanging from a cliff for dear life.

The urge to taste him rampaged her again, only this time the thought didn't seem so frightening. In fact, to hell with decency and refinement, she was going to run her tongue along every inch of his mouth and use it to massage his own. She didn't care how he'd react to it at this point. He was just going to have to get use to it. It was going to be one of her 'quirks,' if need be.

But as she swooned and struggled to gather enough control to finally and fully taste his rough lips, Flynn's presence vanished. His embraced ceased, his hands withdrew, his kiss painfully torn away and Rapunzel's breath caught midway in her throat at the suddenness of his departure. Her hands reached out to nothingness, and her eyes fluttered open when a startling accumulation of sounds shook her to her senses.

First there was the sound of long strides rapidly thudding away from her, to which Rapunzel turned around and saw Flynn making a mad dash for the balcony.

Then her mind gathered the sound of quicker, less panicked, more purposeful footsteps coming from the other side of the door.

Then a knock.

Rapunzel froze before turning to the balcony again in fear. To her relief and amazement, the gifted Flynn Rider was already out of sight.

Before Rapunzel could take a relieved sigh, the knock became more insistent and fissured a stream of guilt and embarrassment that rose in her lungs.

She strode toward the unknown on the other side, trying to straighten herself out on approach.

"I thought no one was supposed to bother me this morning," she seethed quietly despite her guilt, grabbing the door and swinging it open, eager not to hide _all_ of her displeasure.

It was Ingrid.

Apparently she didn't get the memo.

"Gooood LOOORRRD dear, are you all right?"

The genuineness of her concern made Rapunzel pause and reconsider any verbal onslaught. She sighed and opened the door further to let her in.

"First night, new place…" the princess breathed.

Ingrid stopped and held a look on her face as if she understood every world of meaning in those four words. And she probably would have, if it wasn't a lie.

"Dear, the king wishes to get the celebration under way starting this afternoon. If you are still too tired, and that would be understandable, we can easily postpone—"

"No, no, no," Rapunzel jumped in quickly, "it's fine. Yes, I'm a bit tired, but you know what? I'm excited about this too, and it would be a shame to put it off just because of me." Rapunzel's eyes began to dart, calculations and excuses were hers' by the bucket-load, but she needed to pick the right one and deliver it properly. "Besides," she stammered on, "I wouldn't want one more day to pass before _the people_ were to know of my return…"

Rapunzel winced. Too diplomatic? Apparently she was a natural royal after all.

Whatever it was, it completely won over Ingrid, who was one of those people that had the ironic tendency to shake their head and pout when they're in complete awe and admiration.

"You are a true princess even without the upbringing," she cooed, her hands smooshing the young woman's face with the same grandmotherly embrace as the first meeting at the dinner table.

Rapunzel endured and smiled. She couldn't be mad at this woman. Not by any means.

"If you are fit enough, after breakfast the queen would like you to accompany her during the preparations. I believe her intention is for you to just watch and observe the process. Nothing else will be asked of you."

"Yes, and what about—"

"The king?"

"Y—yes," Rapunzel agreed, although she was actually thinking about—

"The king will be out and about throughout the castle and gardens," she said merrily in a sing song voice. She too was overcome by the buoyant atmosphere that bloomed from the moment of Rapunzel's arrival. "I've never seen him so happy and hands on with a celebration. He wants involvement in every aspect."

At this point, Rapunzel wondered if it was even a good idea to bring up the topic of Flynn. Her eyes drifted to the balcony again. Her thoughts mused around his possible whereabouts by this point, and she humored the idea of him sneaking past guards and slinking down halls just to get back to his own bedroom.

Just as she gathered enough courage to feign the idea that Ingrid maybe- just maybe, kinda, sorta, somewhat forgot to mention a certain someone else that was important to Rapunzel, the old maid grabbed her arm and jabbered on as they headed toward the closet.

"We must get you dressed properly," she announced, her stout form remarkably nimble thanks to her giddiness. "Today is going to be a very big day!"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry about the lack of updates. I've been very busy, but hopefully I get to polish up my next chapter in the next couple days. Thanks, you're all lovely!**

* * *

A slinking duck here, an agile step there, a ghostly slide into doorway, a nearly silent click of the said door- and he was safe; his taut back pressing heavily against it in relief.

"That was too close…" Flynn breathed, running a balmy hand over his brow.

Almost getting caught kissing and groping the princess by someone, _anyone_, it could have been the stable boy, would not have improved his standing with the kingdom. In fact, it was probably a good thing that the two were interrupted. In hindsight, Flynn had no idea how he was going to stop himself or Rapunzel from their spontaneous acts of prerequisite passion without making a scene that would end in panting awkwardness, overwrought hormones, and stupidly stuttering explanations for chastity—a concept he had little interest in but was forcing himself to comply with.

Flynn took a deep breath and blinked hard, messaging the bridge of his nose before pressing firm circles around his temples. He was tired. He didn't realize just how much until now. Who knew that a sleepless night, ignited desire, heavy guilt, embedded fear in every passing guard and/or servant and/or teacher and/or Rapunzel's parents could perpetuate a storm of stress that could rob him of his vital energy with all the skillful thieving talents of its host?

Flynn took another deep breath and cleared his throat. What he really needed to do was clear his mind. Clear it of all the dreamy, scandalous visions of _her_.

This only brought back the memory of their latest flirtatious rendezvous, which then proceeded to induce both soothing pleasure and anguishing fear at the same time.

Before his mind could continue to torment him with all the ways in which their encounter nearly went wrong, he decided it would be a good idea to know exactly where he was. As soon as he had climbed down to the nearest balcony, he took many instinctive guesses as to which one connected to a most likely empty room that would lead to a most likely empty hallway.

When he somehow managed to accomplish this, he found that his luck was fleeting because a pair of voices were quickly approaching him, causing him to hop from one neighboring room to the next, until he reached the one he occupied now.

Unfortunately, having no inclination of what room he suddenly bounded into made him apprehensive.

"God, please just have it not be the King and Queen's bedroom," he shuddered, eying the walls and finely pillared quartets of chiseled figures.

He doubted this from a quick scan, but considering the countless number of bedrooms he had stolen from (not that he would brag about it) he knew certain people—sometimes the most unlikely of sorts—would keep all kinds of useless crap he had to avoid tripping over or crashing into.

Luckily, it only took him a few steps to realize he had stowed away in a storage room.

"Hmmm…probably _wouldn't_ be a good idea to be caught in here…" he mused to himself. And because it was a storage room, there was no doubt it supplied constant rounds of very unpredictable foot traffic.

Flynn leaned his head against the door. After hearing nothing on the other side, he peeked his head out and inspected to his right and left.

A serene quietness welcomed him. The noiseless sun rays smoothly glided through the giant arched windows, their warmth and brightness adding to the tranquil stillness. They seemed to be the only body of life in what otherwise felt like a moment frozen in time.

Flynn straightened his vest, gently shut the door behind him and walked out confidently. Having not been on this floor, he had no idea where he was going, but that didn't stop him from pretending like he did.

He even kept on walking when he heard a pair of hurried footsteps that ended up belonging to a stern, hunched, scholarly looking old man that turned a corner too fast and nearly crashed into the young wanderer.

"What are you doing here?" he asked sharply, his cracked voice rang in Flynn's ears and resonated down the halls like that of a reproachful crow, lost in the unspoiled halls and searching for its broken, imperfect woods.

Flynn lifted a brow and tilted his head slowly, calculating the shrewd scowl and wondering why this man acted like he had known him for years.

"Oh, I know who you are," the old man growled darkly, seemingly reaching into the rogue's thoughts with his blood stopping gaze alone.

"Whew, that's a relief!" Flynn snarked, trying to hide a certain twinge of fear that came from feeling strangely exposed.

"You're the ruffian that may be fooling the royal highnesses, but don't think for one moment that those of us that wait hand and foot on them are not aware of what is happening. Unlike you and unlike them, we know everything that goes on within these walls, you scheming, twisted, conniving rake!"

"Did it ever occur to you that perhaps the princess's _personal _experience with me had something to do with the gracious discerning factor that the king and queen mutually agreed upon?" Flynn made the split second decision to be a really _smart_ smart-ass. He knew exactly the type of man that was standing before him.

The hunched man paused with a curling lip ready to bark back, but Flynn didn't give him a word in edgewise.

"Also, I really suggest you don't insult the intelligence of the royal family in front of me, especially the princess. It tends to magnetize my fist towards people's faces. It's a natural reaction."

The man very intentionally shoved his colossal pile of books to the ground (honestly, it was a feat that he could carry so many in the first place). He then fiercely tensed his wiry hands, raising his shoulders and threateningly stepped forward. Flynn stood his ground, even as a bony finger flew up to his face.

"You watch yourself boy, because _you_ are being watched very diligently—by _every_ order taker in this castle. There isn't a soul here that trusts you and there isn't a shred of distress you haven't caused to the peace loving inhabitants of this castle, who now live in terror and uncertainty. If I ever catch you needlessly snaking through halls, snooping in rooms you shouldn't…" he paused for a moment. Flynn was a little stupefied by its suddenness but patiently waited for the verbal abuse to continue. What happened next baffled him. The man shut up, not to catch his scything breath, but to succumb to what seemed like a sudden, immediate stop in all thought processing. The look on his face was something poised yet —frozen— something Flynn could not categorize with any primary emotion. He felt alarmed while staring at it.

Then, as soon as it had began, a muscular swoop of his face and a rollback of his eyes jolted him into what looked like a mechanical resurrection. He stood tall again, as if nothing ever happened, his expression traced back exactly to before the mental reset and continued, "perhaps I should give you fair warning—" and he blathered on as Flynn didn't hear him, still trying to fathom the peculiarity he just witnessed.

"Every room you enter, there will be a pair of eyes watching," the old man snarled with a fearsome amount of life, considering his archaic appearance. Flynn's attention finally reverted back to his words again. "Every guard you pass will report to the one you pass next. A system has been developed since your arrival here, and every step you take is like a vibration in a spider's web—it informs _all _of us of your presence. There isn't a place you go that we won't know about. And most importantly of all..." he paused again, but it was very natural one this time; as natural as the thin, wicked smile that unfortunately imposed his hardened face. "You should know this…everyone…_everyone_... every single servant, guard, teacher, tailor, _everyone_… knows where your bedroom is..."

Odd...

Creepy...

So...?

—where the first series of words that flew through Flynn's thoughts. He stared for a moment, suddenly realizing that he instinctively had put his hands up in response to the old man's dagger-like finger in his face; probably from years of developing a conditioned response to when an _actual _dagger was in his face. He also, although not wanting to admit it, felt a flurry of tension at the old crooked beast's gnarled last words.

"I'm curious…" Flynn started dryly, "why tell me this? You've revealed your entire mental infrastructure on the subject matter that is myself—one that is shared amongst every living person in this castle, minus three people. You think I can be baited?"

"It is only because of the princess…"

"And by that you mean?"

"I mean that I am very aware that she is quite fond of you. Having witnessed much of your inappropriate fondling, I have no intention of upsetting her in her newness here. You can do that on your own accord, as I'm sure with time, you will."

At this point, Flynn began to worry of the possible omnipresence of this man; especially since he had only been here one night. One night, half a day, and the old man had witnessed _much_ fondling? He was bluffing. He had to be….right? What the hell…?

"So for that matter alone, I will not only keep my mouth shut about your roaming hands, but I will continue my watch on you—in silence. When the time eventually comes that evidence must be amassed for your traitorous deeds and the princess's heartache— I will have much to dispose of."

"Holy shi—"

"Please let that permeate deep in your thoughts, and let it rob you of your sleep," he breathed with decisiveness.

Now the young ex-bandit was starting to get irritated. What gave this guy the idea that he could be a condemning book of judgment on legs?

"Aw, don't give yourself too much credit there sin sniffer. I already have enough to rob me of my sleep."

"Hmph! I'm sure…"

"You're threats are a mere blip—the last on the 'What-keeps-Flynn-Rider-awake-at-Night' list. In fact, it's the period at the end of the novel sized clutter," he finished with an air of smugness at the silly, though biting insult.

"Enough! I have no more time for your insolence," the man croaked hastily. There was heated pride, but a look of defiant retreat in his eyes. "I must prepare these for the princess," he trailed off, stooping over to grab at his books.

"You need help with those?" Flynn feigned concern.

"Keep your paws where they can always be seen."

"I'll take that as a 'no.'"

"And try to keep your attendance relevant to its surroundings. Currently you have no business being on this floor."

"Don't I though? You can't tell me you couldn't smell that delicious aroma of breakfast wafting down the halls? Considering how I've never eaten like I did last night, I can only imagine just how amazing breakfast will be. Can you blame me for my spellbound state?"

The lie was convincing enough. The old man _almost_ gave a civilly toned answer.

"From your room, take either staircase at the end of the halls down to the first floor. You should know your way to the dining table from there."

"Much obliged sir. Next time I'll give you a tip."

"I don't take blood money."

"Excellent! Neither do I. Looks like we have more in common than you originally thought."

The old man shoved his way past with an obligatory grumble that sounded so foreign, so forced and yet, so ingrained in his mannerisms, it was nearly laughable.

"You have a good day."

Flynn blinked in humorous disbelief while never relenting from his annoyance and answered, "Thanks, I'm sure you mean that."

Without wasting any more time on the hunched, crooked back of the old man, Flynn marched forward to the stairs. Breakfast… that sounded really good right now. Perhaps it could also replenish the ever draining energy from his body, energy that wouldn't betray him when he needed it to counter a vicious old man.

But as he tried to distract himself with the thought of fresh hot food, an unsteady pulse beat in his hands. Even as he rubbed them together and shrugged multiple times, the uneasiness started to grow, and finally manifest into words and queries in his mind.

_Everyone…everyone knows where my room is? _The dreadful thought lingered.

Even in this place, the royal castle itself, housing the king and queen and his beloved princess, there was something so revealed, so disconcerting and so…_vulnerable_ about that realization. Flynn never thought about it until now. He dearly hoped it wasn't going to be another stressful clump added to the storm, as well as another dash on his 'What-keeps-Flynn-Rider-awake-at-Night' list.

"Good morning sir…" spoke a mild mannered servant to the young rouge's approach down the stairs. The servant showed none of the reservations or fears the vile old man spoke of. So either the servant had the damnedest poker face, or the old man was full of shit. Either way, Flynn felt the weight of his venomous words lift a little.

"While your timing is conveniently impeccable sir, may I ask that next time you wait in your room until you are summoned for breakfast? It will be much more convenient for you that way."

"Sure…" Flynn answered flatly, momentarily studying the servant with more suspicion than he intended. He quickly shook his head, despising the distrust that was suddenly flanking him and went on to say, "I didn't think of that, I apologize. And by impeccable, do you mean the king, queen and princess are at the table?"

"The princess is on her way down, but the king and queen eagerly await your presence, sir." He smoothly shifted his weight to allow Flynn to pass with an extended arm to show the way. Flynn nodded respectably and walked forward.

"Ah, there's the lad." The king greeted casually. Flynn was grateful for this. The more he became familiar with the king, the more he hoped they were going to get along. It seemed plausible.

"Good morning, young man. I hope you slept well?" the queen inquired gently.

Though Flynn was ever continually reminded of how horribly he slept, he appreciated that the queen was a sweet thing too. She had enduring finesse that somehow perfectly complimented a subtle, iron-willed assertiveness that made people automatically weigh their words carefully without feeling frightened about it. There was natural veneration to be had with her, and she didn't even have to try. Flynn had all the respect in the world for that kind of talent and poise.

"To be honest your highness, I had a lot on my mind…" Flynn began humbly enough, "But the bed was the most comfortable I've ever slept in."

"I understand all of it, dear. Come sit with us." She gracefully gestured to the seat beside her.

Flynn blinked rapidly and took an equally faltered breath. He did as told, but took his seat with all the fluidity of a petrified tree.

This was the first time he had been alone with Rapunzel's parents. It would have been much easier if an encounter like this were to happen at dinner time, because he knew there was the inevitable escape route called 'bedtime'. It was a concept associated with collapsing unto a fluffy warm mattress, which resulted in a sleep that gently scrubbed away all the day's built up stress.

In this case however, it was breakfast— and everything spoken at breakfast left no room for an escape, literal or metaphorical. In fact, words here only seemed to ensnare the speaker in a wiry net that left him flopping like a helpless fish. Whatever slipped through his lips would set the tone for the day. Any mistakes here and he would have to dwell on it and burden it until he would inevitably see them again— at lunch— the torturous weight of his former stupidity grinding faster—and then at dinner, where he may very well faint from exhaustion and drown in delicious chowder.

Flynn wheezed. He was being way too preoccupied with nets and webs and entrapments lately, or at least since he talked to the contemptible old coot he felt he was going to get to know all too well, all too soon. He begrudgingly figured this out after the man had announced what needed to be 'prepared for the princess.'

Perhaps Flynn was wrong though. Perhaps the man was just a disgruntled librarian who hated his job and thought filing was something only women should be assigned to. He doubted this, but it was fun to think about.

"I'm afraid there's no easy way to go about discussing this," the queen suddenly began. She had been witnessing the stifled whirlwind of frantic emotions fighting for dominance over his facial muscles.

Flynn chocked on air and looked at her. He held no control over the panic that came in like a dark horse to win 'the battle of indecisive expressions'. He also had no idea he succumbed to such a long pause, nor did he realize that he was being studied so diligently for it.

_Dammit, dammit, what is wrong with me? Get a hold of yourself. You've gone nearly days without sleep, so it's no excuse. Why is this so different?_

He hadn't been himself since this morning, it was true.

Hell, he hadn't been himself since he fell for Blondie.

He was losing it.

He was losing his steely galvanized edge—the edge that was 100% Flynn Rider. This absence of resolve gave him a short lived but severe bout of dizziness.

Realizing the defeat that might as well have been served to him as a breakfast dish— he merely sighed and slumped. He was tired—so very tired. The tire brought on a vengeful spell of loneliness that came out of nowhere. Rapunzel wasn't here yet, and despite the current circumstances that required his best behavior in front of her parents, his mind suddenly delved into a fantastical paradise that involved her in very inappropriate ways, which put a very ridiculous expression on his face.

_Son of a BITCH I'm tired...I'm tired, I'm scatterbrained, I'm horny, I'm anxious, I'm frustrated, I'm overstrained and now I'm losing my patience in the form of lunacy—_

"Young man," came the strong steady voice of the king, "if I may be so candid, you look like you're about the throw a red-raced, foamy-mouthed fit equivalent to that of a 12 year old schoolboy."

"To expound on that sir," Flynn chimed, somehow able to surface a raw form of his old self through his internal delirium, "I feel like the red-faced, foamy-mouthed 12 year old schoolboy that never did his homework, always came in late, skipped Monday's and Friday's, switched out homework assignments, cheated on every test, put a snake in the teacher's wardrobe (because my teacher had a wardrobe in the class, don't ask), stuffed beetles in classmates' boots, forged unscrupulous love letters, set various objects on fire, including the gold fish tank; which somehow really _did_ manage to catch on fire, I don't know how, I guess I'm just that talented—"

The king and queen slowly exchanged uncertain glances.

"— pulled on the girl's hair in front of me, dyed the girl's hair in front of me, chopped off the hair of any girl that was longer than shoulder length, (ironic, I know), braided boys hair without their knowledge, and proceeded to put flowers in them (God, this is getting weirder as I try to remember it) smuggled in a large tub of crickets, smuggled in a large tub of rats, smuggled in a large tub of bats (all these was especially effective on the girls) gave wedgies to the scrawny, stole lunch from the poor, ate it in front of them, then gave _them_ wedgies…"

The king and queen wondered how much longer Flynn was going to recite his mental list of past school day behavior when he suddenly shouted with the authority of a bombastic judge.

"AND THEN ONE DAY—!"

The king and queen stared silently, their insides stirred with guilty amusement, but both were strong enough to retain straight faces as they patiently awaited a less than refined conclusion.

"I meet a lost, innocent, beautiful girl who..." he spoke quietly, "in spite of her imprisoned upbringing, in spite of her narrow experiences, in spite of her complete ignorance of everything that lay beyond her tower, managed to open the entire world to me, the part that I never saw, the part I use to sneer at through all the hateful veils I made myself that blurred its vision to me…"

His face hit the table. Hard. And all he did in response was give a pitiful moan. A moment later, he calculated the rudeness of his behavior and bolted upward, his thoughts in a mish-mash from the rush.

"And you know what it caused me to do?" Flynn continued, his voice and manners reverting back to a drunken stupor, either ignoring or willing himself to be unaware of the king and queen's discomfort. "She influenced me to put my efforts in the right direction. Indeed. I internally pined and denied it but when I looked at her… I caught whatever infectious goodness she had and… " he lowered his head slowly, "...and so I decide I'll give it a try...I'll do something right. I'll do something honest."

He then sat straighter and placed his hands on the table, seemingly acting out the moment in time in which this parabolic memory took place.

"So I set that paper down, pick up my pencil, and for the first time in my life— I finish a perfectly genuine homework assignment. No cheating, no rushing, no faking, no skimming— pure honest academic dedication. _Just _for her… and then… the moment I'm ready to turn it in— the moment I'm ready to proudly waltz up to my teacher—no pranks in hand— and give her the assignment I finally accomplished all on my own, ready to receive my just credit …"

The king and queen are not sure if they should lean forward in earnest interest or lean away and cringe in sad anticipation.

"A _dog_ eats it! A dog! Something that doesn't even have a connection to all the hell I raised previously. And I shiver and quake and realize that all that effort was for nothing! Absolutely nothing! The moment you try to turn around, you fail. The moment you try to change your ways, you are too late. The moment you try to be honest, you are unequivocally proven a liar. You then frantically point at a bony dog, but who can believe you when you have nothing to prove? No one. And who can you blame for it all happening in the first place? Yourself. And what can you do except watch helplessly as the cruel irony physically manifests itself in a dog's intestinal tract? Nothing..."

A long, muted pause hovered in the air, broken only by Flynn's uneven breathing. The world isn't silent to him. His mind is reeling, his thoughts painfully echo and he swears he can actually hear something akin to creaking when he closes and opens his sticky eyes.

Finally, a voice gently interceded in the clammy stillness.

"That's what second chances are for, dear," the queen said, just above a whisper, her voice tender with a kind of carefulness that made Flynn feel a thud of guilt. He looked at her, still trying to collect himself and recover from a very unintentional, fully loaded rant. Her response seemed too simple for him to believe she had really listened to his diatribe, but deep within his chest, the blunt sincerity jarred him.

"Besides, you _did_ turn in that homework assignment," the king said deeply, more apt to continue playing along with the shoddy analogy.

"No I didn't," Flynn murmured. "I simply found the teacher's long lost…eh…" he shrugged, waving a hand carelessly, "make something up that'll fit the scraggly yarn I weaved."

"Daughter."

Flynn froze, his eyes widening and his face suddenly feeling cold. His gaze slowly traced back to the king and queen, the silence more weighty and significant than ever before.

"Which is exactly why you get a passing grade anyway," finished the king, answering the confused plea in his eyes.

"Despite your past transgressions, Flynn Rider," the queen went on, "there was a single deed you committed—accompanied by a single sentiment that gave you reason to commit it in the first place, strung together by a determination and willingness to suffer in a form I've never personally seen before, and have only read in books when I was a little girl…"

Flynn turned to her more now, listening with the eagerness of a child sitting by a fire, enthralled by the narrative of a parent; something he had never personally experienced before, and had only read in books as a little boy…

"We know what that deed was, we know why you did it, and we know why you're still here, Mr. Flynn Rider… " She tilted her head and gave him a warm smile, a smile with depths of understanding and sympathy that suddenly, like a wonderfully crushing wave, made him realize he no longer had to silently beg for forgiveness and walk with a thorn in his side.

The queen raised her hand and placed it over his shoulder. "Rapunzel told us everything. She left absolutely nothing out on what transpired during those two days. And judging by every bout of fierce loyalty, determination, fear, and perseverance you've shown us…you have nothing to fear in our understanding of this situation, of you, or of her..." She made to look at him with more focus, making sure he was paying very close attention. When he eyed her back in complete fixation, she shared a loving, reassuring twinkle in her eyes. "You don't have to second guess us any longer, young man. You don't have to worry about our approval."

Flynn's body started to sway. His mouth flexed occasionally and he leaned away to slightly curl in on himself, every part of him emitting the soul of a strong, confident, but emotionally deprived orphan boy.

"We've wholly accepted all that has led up to this very moment. And because of that, you've earned yourself an old alias you once abandoned before, but are dusting off and showing once again. I believe it was something like…: Eugene Fitzherbert?"

Eugene lowered his head, his reddened eyes aching and quivering in fatigue. He opened his dry mouth to speak, but a lapse in thought only made him gape and sink back into his chair.

Then, a spark ignited in Eugene's eyes. He understood everything now, and his love for the princess only deepened for it. They knew as much as him and they accepted it, fully reasoned out and comprehended without a shred of concern or doubt— which would have been completely understandable anyway. Their lack of political appeasement made them all the more intelligent and insightful, and this, Eugene felt, would make his future endeavors a hell of a lot easier. Plus, all of this realization stacked together suddenly made him want to hunt down that old, crooked, pansy librarian and punch him in the face—and then maybe give him a wedgie for good measure— right after eating his lunch, if it had any taste.

"You also have earned yourself the day off, Mr. Fitzherbert," the king said.

"Please… call me Eugene."

The king nodded. "You're tired. We all know it. We've all been there, and no one wants to see it. Go to your room, Eugene. Breakfast will be sent up. Sleep until you're recovered and join the festivities at your will. Or rest the entire day, if you wish..."

Eugene took a slow breath, mentally etching what had just taken place.

Apparently he was wrong. There was no net. There was no snare, no entrapment. He set the mood with all his heart, and although it unintentionally turned out to be a silly display, it opened every door to him— to allow him to rest his guilt, his fears, and his uncertainties.

"Thank you, your highnesses, I cannot even begin to express my gratitude—" his throat closed, and suddenly all he could think of was her—the girl that rescued him—saved him. She had done it again and she wasn't even here. Her glowing beauty in his mind made his jaw slack as a dumbfounded smile tugged upward on his handsome, weary face. Before breakfast was even served, she was leaps and bounds closer to being his— unabashedly being his.

Eugene got up. While his energy was sapped, a lapping surge of renewed life uplifted him and finally gave him the clarity he was so use to inherently summoning at will. He bowed respectively and strode out, his echoing steps no longer a bell toll of fear within the company of royalty. He turned the corner; ready to jaunt upstairs, kick his door open and crash into bed for the rest of the day, until—

"You're very poetic when you're tired…or dying."

"Ra…punzel," he breathed, too stunned to laugh.

Rapunzel immediately wrapped her arms around him and began kissing him repeatedly. He didn't even get the chance to see how beautiful she was in the dress Ingrid set her up in.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, "I didn't mean to say a 'dying' joke—what is wrong with me?" She then looked away in bewilderment for a moment, "I don't think I've even said one before. What was I thinking?"

"Hey, I didn't chastise you. You don't have to refrain from any kind of jokes for my sake. Just…refrain from them in front of your parents."

Rapunzel slowly pulled away. She dragged her hands over his chest tenderly, having no idea just how many chills rippled up and down Eugene's body from this mild, delicate movement.

"I'm sorry anyways… it was very rude and if anything, _I_ get offended by it…" she said with a sadness in her eyes that Eugene could never tolerate for very long.

"Don't worry about it. I want you to be able to tell me what you need to tell me, joking or otherwise. Somebody has to play that role, right? You don't have a lot of options right now, so you're stuck with me."

Rapunzel took his broad torso in her fine arms again and buried her face in his chest, taking a deep breath of his scent, silently aware of the stress emitting from a thin layer of sweat. Eugene just stood there in a faze. The calming affect she had on him further draining him of any flickering remnants of anxiety.

"Take as long a rest as you need," she said suddenly. Eugene looked down at her and she continued, "We're not going to be seeing each other that much today. I have to stay glued to my mother's side."

"So you _did_ hear everything?"

"_Most_ everything…" she grinned.

"Eavesdropping isn't very becoming of a princess you know," he chided in mock discipline.

"I'll take your lectures more seriously when I know you haven't committed any of their implications."

"You think I'm guilty of eavesdropping?" he asked, running his hands up her arms, reveling in her hampered breath and parting mouth.

"I think you're guilty of nearly everything," she teased, having very little knowledge of what 'everything' meant, even if she was correct.

"_Most_ everything," Eugene corrected with a parroting tone.

"Ah…" she replied, skidding a hand up to his chin with a mischievous gleam in her eyes that was becoming all too familiar to him.

"Go have your breakfast, princess," he decided to say wisely, trying to prevent the slightest memory of what elapsed that morning. It didn't work out very well, and he felt himself melting to her naturally skillful touch.

So in another round of defeat, Eugene lowered himself for a chaste kiss, but Rapunzel, knowing this would be her only time today to embrace him, decided to give him a reminder of what he tortured her with earlier that morning. She grabbed him and pressed her lips hard against his, swiftly intervening between kisses and pants and daring lip sucking, something she had no concept of until she actually did it. Like much of her behavior involving Eugene lately, it shocked her, but it felt so distractingly good, she didn't care, and ventured to do it again, much to Eugene's thrilled dismay.

The sound of clanging utensils caused them to break breathlessly and they clumsily began to fiddle with their own hands.

"I'll see you later this afternoon," he breathed through a smile, squeezing her shoulders before making his way past her to the stairs.

"See me tonight," she said quietly, completely unaware of how... _un_-innocent she sounded as she disappeared behind the threshold.

Eugene gaped and gagged on his own tongue as he turned to see her gone.

_No no no no no…_he blanked, _that is one thing you are NOT allowed to say to Eugene Fitzherbert_. He rallied hard in his mind, despite it contradicting what he just told her about talking to him about anything.

_Especially in that way…not now, not at this point, and definitely not when I need my sleep. Seven more hours of it at least._

Sleep…Rapunzel…it looked like he wasn't going to get much of either anytime soon; not in the form that he deeply desired anyway. And once again, he readily accepts the unintentional torture she aggrieves on him, and the affect it will have on him as he lays in a bed.

"Damn…"


End file.
